


Inapposite

by SnubbingApollo



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Slow Burn, Spirit Inquisitor, Spirit lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-05-23 05:31:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6106441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnubbingApollo/pseuds/SnubbingApollo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inapposite:</p>
<p>Adj. </p>
<p>   Of an inappropriate or misapplied nature</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So, this prologue is pretty short, basically just an introduction. The first chapter where things really start happening should be up either tonight or tomorrow.

There is a moment, where Love is not sure what is happening. It feels the tug, a pull on its consciousness and its form, but it doesn’t _understand_. Then everything is light and pain and the comforting landscape of the fade is vanishing before its eyes and it knows. It's been bound. 

It is cold, and afraid and so far from home. 

A booming voice speaks but Love can’t understand its words. This cannot be happening.

Love stands slowly, its form feeling heavy and shambling and wrong. It takes a step forward and collapses again, pain like it’s never felt rolling up from its palm. It looks down and sees what looks like a wound glowing green on a mortal’s hand. When it tries to move its own hand the fingers flex. Love jerks away from the hand but it follows attached to it in all the wrong ways. It opens its mouth to scream and the voice that escapes is not its own. What is happening?

No sooner has the thought formed in Love’s mind than it is beset by a swarm of Fear. Ugly spider shaped things running at him with speed. Why are they coming for _Love?_ It’s a spirit just like them. It can’t feed them. Still, driven by some instinct it doesn’t understand, it begins to run, turning and climbing clumsily up a hill away from the demons pursuing him. 

The ground is too solid beneath it. It can’t will the incline away like it should be able to.

Just as he is nearly overtaken Love sees a form above it, white and glowing in the shape of a mortal woman. It reaches out and touches the other spirit’s hand and then there is nothing.


	2. Chapter 1

Love is cold. Its often cold here. He’s been assured by multiple people that that isn’t true all the time or for the entire mortal world but he finds himself skeptical. He ignores the chill and continues to survey the map. He still has no idea how to read it, really. He had a vague idea now of where most things were in relation to each other, but if you pointed to a random mountain range and asked him to name it he wouldn’t be able to do it. Luckily he;s been able to manage and none of the advisers had found out yet. He can just imagine _that_ conversation.

The door opens and Love glances over, sighing when he sees The Iron Bull leaning against the door frame.

“Bull,” he greets, looking back to the map. “What can I do for you?”

“You can stop staring at that map and get some rest,” Bull says. Love sighs looking up at him.

“You know,” he says. “I think I preferred it when you were frightened of me.”

“Nah,” bull dismisses the claim with a wave of his hand. “Besides, seems pretty ridiculous now that I know you better.” Love scoffs. “C’mon Boss,” Bull tries again. “Staring at that map all night isn’t going to change anything.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” Love tells him. It’s the most disturbing part of being mortal by far. Being in his home, but not is… unpleasant to say the least.

“Yeah I know,” Bull says softly. “But you still need to.” Love gives him a small half-hearted glare. “C’mon. The world will still need saving in the morning. You can’t help anyone if you’re too tired to think.”

“I dislike it very much when you’re right,” Love murmurs, turning to follow the qunari out the door with a sigh. “You’d have made a good spirit of Insight.”

“I don’t know about that,” Bull says with a laugh, leading the spirit out into the hall. Love smiles at him.

“You should get some rest too.”

“Already in the plan,” the Bull tells him with a smile. “Just wanted to make sure you were headed to bed first. You spend too many nights in there. You ever wanna talk about anything, I’m here. You know that right?”

“Even if it’s ‘demony crap’?” Love teases. Bull gives a chuckle.

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t mind if it’s _your_ demony crap.”

“The Iron Bull,” Love says putting a hand over his heart dramatically. “I think that may be the most touching thing you’ve ever said to me.” Bull laughs, shaking his head.

“You’re starting to develop a pretty good sense of humor there,” he says with a grin. “Night Boss.”

“I always had a sense of humor. It was just too refined for you mortals to understand it,” Love teases. “Goodnight, The Iron Bull. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Bull nods, giving him a parting smile before turning in the direction of his room. Love sighs, running a hand through his hair.

He really hates sleeping.

He takes the long way back to the rooms that have become his. It’s a cold night, but quiet and the library is always empty at this hour. A good night for a walk if not for rest.

“I would have thought every would be asleep by now,” a voice comes from his right. Love jumps turning quickly, but it’s just Dorian, looking somewhat apologetic with his hands raised. Love sighs, shaking his head.

“You startled me,” he says, giving the mage a disgruntled look.

“My apologies,” Dorian responds. “I do tend to have that affect here. Scary Tevinter mage, and all.”

“I wouldn’t know much about that,” Love tells him. Dorian takes a step closer, looking him over with a critical eye.

“No, I suppose not,” he murmurs. “Do the others know? That you’re not human, I mean.” Love winces a bit giving the mage a wry smile.

“Figured me out have you? I was hoping I was getting better at blending in.”

“Darling,” Dorian says slowly. “You stand out like a Ferelden at an Orlesian ball.” Love gives him a confused look and Dorian chuckles.

“See? Like that. Little things you don’t understand that you should. And has no one thought to give you a name?”

Love’s brow furrows even further.

“I have a name,” he says.

“A _mortal_ name. We can’t very well go around calling you Love.”

“Why not? It’s my name.” Love says firmly.

“Yes, but it’s a bit out of place here,” Dorian tells him. “The first time I heard someone use it I thought you and she were together.” Love gives him a blank look. “That you were in love with each other? Courting? It sounds like an endearment.”

“O-oh,” Love stutters out, his face heating. “I see, but… it’s my _name_. I can’t just change it.”

“Why not?” Dorian asks tilting his head.

“Well it… it’s what I _am_. To change it would be to change myself.”

“Is that how it works in the Fade?”

“I… well yes,” Love says. “I’m sorry, I’m not used to having to put this sort of thing into words. No one here is very keen to talk about it except Solas, and he understands so much of it already.”

“That is criminal,” Dorian says shaking his head. “I’ve barely been able to contain myself since I put two and two together. And it really wasn’t that difficult. Especially after spending some time with Cole.”

“You think Compassion and I are similar?” Love asks. “I’ll take that as a compliment I suppose.” He looks Dorian over before smiling slightly. “You have questions then?”

“I practically _burn_ with them,” Dorian answers, eyes lighting up as he gestures to the small alcove he’d been sitting in and the chairs there. Love moves to sit, chuckling a bit at his enthusiasm. It wasn’t as though he was going to sleep tonight anyway.

“How did you come to be in that form?” Dorian asks him, resting his arms on his knees and leaning forward in his chair.

“Corypheus,” Love answered. “Some kind of blood magic, I think. He meant to bind me. I think he knew how dangerous the mark would be. Meant to control it by putting it on someone else and controlling them.”

“Well, that went a little sideways on him didn’t it?” Dorian jokes lightly. “What happened to the man whose body that was?”

“I honestly don’t know. Whatever spell Corypheus used might have killed him, or perhaps he was already dead. In any case I’m alone.”

“Well, he looks to have been Tevene, in any case. Though that hair…” Dorian trails off giving the feature in question a long appreciative look. “I wonder if he had some elvhen blood in his lineage somewhere. It’s quite a stunning red.”

Love tilts his head, thinking there was some nuance to this conversation he's missing. He often feels that way here. It’s quickly losing its novelty as a sensation.

“Thank you?” he says before laughing slightly. “That… wasn’t supposed to be a question. It’s still strange to think of this form as being me. It is now, but…” Dorian gave him a small sympathetic smile.

“How are you adjusting the way things work in this world?” he asks, changing the subject. Love laughs again.

“Well, I’ve stopped walking into walls because I expect them to move for me,” he says, which prompts a laugh from Dorian as well. It’s a lovely sound.

They talk like that for some time, the conversation eventually turning away from Love and to other things. It’s comfortable. Dorian is surprisingly easy to talk to and when the sun comes up, Love has fallen asleep in his chair, Dorian occasionally looking at him over the his book with a soft smile.


	3. Chapter 2

Love dreams of Grief. This is not unusual, but it’s always disturbing. He dreams of the Despair demon that he’d found deep in the Fade. He dreams of it following the howling pain inside him, of its words of understanding. He dreams of the way they’d pressed together, bled into each other, until they were one being, howling and crying in shared pain.

He wakes in his room in Skyhold, a scream on his lips and tears on his face, and a whole deep inside him that he’s never been able to fill.

He's had the dream every night since Dorian asked the question. He’d known it was coming of course, the man had been asking questions every chance he got since their first late night conversation. He was surprised it hadn’t come up sooner.

“Do Spirits love each other?” he’d asked, his expression still holding the fascination that had resulted from whatever Love had just finished saying. Love had tensed in his chair, staring at Dorian with wide eyes. The answer to the question was simple, and for any other spirit it would have taken but a moment to answer, but love felt the pain deep inside himself twinge. Wounds that had never healed stinging with renewed agony and he’d stuttered out some sort of excuse and fled Dorian’s alcove as quickly as his mortal legs could carry him. That had been three days ago and he’d been avoiding the man ever since.

Do spirits love each other?

The question itself is completely innocent. There’s nothing about it that was tricky or difficult or underhanded. A simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed for an answer. But he’d panicked. He’d fled and now the answer Dorian would want would be more complicated, more personal. The man wouldn’t press if Love asked him not to, but he’d always be wondering. He’d start to paint conclusions of his own. He probably already had, considering how thoroughly Love had been avoiding him.

And yet… Love shivers wrapping his arms around himself. The sun is just starting to creep up over the distant peaks of the Frostbacks and he knows he won’t get any more sleep. He may as well get up.

***

He takes his breakfast to the garden, hoping the fresh air and the feel of the plants surrounding him will give him some peace. He’s barely sat down when he notices Dorian sitting on a nearby bench with a book. Their eyes meet and they both freeze. They can’t very well ignore each other now that they’ve made eye contact, and neither is willing to leave and make it look like they’re angry, so they just stare at each other for a long moment like deer looking down the shaft of an arrow.

“You should talk to him.”

Love leaps into the air in what must be the most ridiculous fear response in the mortal arsenal.

“Compassion!” he yelps. “Oh, you startled me.”

“I’m sorry,” Cole says looking contrite. “You’re hurting. You should talk to him. Talking makes the hurt less.”

“It’s not that simple,” Love says, glancing back at Dorian who is obviously trying very hard not to overhear.

“I know. You’re afraid, what will he do if he knows, what will he _think_ but you don’t have to be. He won’t judge you. He doesn’t judge me.”

Love’s eyes widen at that and a sudden concern occurs to him.

“Cole… you don’t think _I_ judge you, do you?” he asks softly, reaching out and resting a hand on the boy’s. Cole smiles at him.

“No,” he says. “You’re only cruel to yourself.”

Well. Isn’t that succinct.

“You should talk to him,” Cole urges again before vanishing. Love sighs, looking at Dorian.

“Join me?” he asks holding out an apple. Dorian stands cautiously, closing the book in his hands and moving to sit next to Love.

“You don’t have to bribe me with food to get my attention,” Dorian attempts but the flirtation falls somewhat flat. “Love, if I overstepped-”

“That’s not it,” Love says quickly. “It’s just… memories.” A frustrated noise escapes him. “Yes. Spirits can fall in love with each other.” Dorian considers him for a moment, licking his lips.

“If you wanted to… well, you clearly don’t want to talk about it,” is what the mage finally settles on saying. Love sighs.

“If I did, would you want to listen?” he asks. Dorian nods.

“Of course. You’re my friend, at least, I’d hope we’re friends-.” Dorian cuts himself off by clearing his throat, fidgeting in his seat nervously. It’s odd seeing the normally charismatic man so out of sorts.

“I’d hope so as well,” Love says quietly.

“Well, there you have it.”

Love chuckles a little, giving the other man a smile.

“I’d need a great deal of wine if we were to have that conversation,” he tells him. “I’m told it’s too early for such things.”

“Ah, you’ve been deceived,” Dorian cries with mock affront. “Trust me, it’s never too early for wine.”

***

Love is halfway through his first glass before he can make himself speak. They’re in Dorian’s room sitting across from each other on the bed.

“I gave you the simple answer to your question, but in reality it’s more complex than that. Emotions are tricky things for spirits. We don’t just feel them, we _are_ them. So while the answer is that spirits are more than capable of falling in love many of us chose not to. It’s safer that way. In fact there are many who would consider a thing like me hopelessly reckless. Love is a very complicated emotion and it so easily slides into other things,” he says. He takes another sip of his wine, looking up at the man across from him.

“Love spirits are… we’re very fragile. We can be hurt so easily, and pain is dangerous for a spirit.”

“How so?” Dorian asks.

“Remember when I told you I couldn’t simply change my name? That it was what I am? I know you didn’t quite understand that and I’m honestly not sure how to explain it properly. Spirits… we don’t have a concrete sense of self the way you mortals do. It doesn’t matter to you if Varric calls you Sparkler, or Krem calls you Lautus because you’re still _you_. Dorian isn’t who you are it’s just what you’re called. I _am_ love. Or I was. Things aren’t as solid in the Fade. If I called a table a cup there it might very well turn into one.”

“So if you started calling yourself something else… it would change you?”

“Yes,” Love says with a small smile. “It… I’ve heard you and Solas talking about demons, how they’re corrupted spirits.”

“Is that how that happens?” Dorian asks incredulously.

“It’s not quite that simple, but yes. I chose to be love because it’s what I value. It’s what I think is important. If that were to change, if I were to be hurt by a lover say, if I became angry or jealous or fell into a depression…”

“Then you’d become whatever emotion you were feeling?”

Love nods, taking a deep breath.

“Have you ever felt something so deeply, that for a moment it was all you were? All you could see or think about? That it filled you up and wrung you out and left you with nothing else?”

“I think so,” Dorian says softly. “For brief moments.”

“That’s what it’s like for us. And when that feeling that is everything you are shifts just a little… Solas makes it sound so difficult, but falling is easy, Dorian. It’s like walking downhill. You don’t even know how far you’ve gone until you look behind yourself and see the mountain rising into the sky.” Love licks his lips taking another drink of wine. His glass is empty only a brief moment before Dorian fills it for him.

The man is watching him with rapt attention and Love finds he can’t meet his eyes.

“Its name was Valor and I have never loved anything so much in my existence. And I have existed a very long time.”

“What happened to it?” Dorian asks carefully.

“It died,” Love says firmly. “At least, I think it did. I _have_ to think it did. It… a mage bound it. It was pulled from the Fade and I never saw it again.” Dorian flinches near violently.

“I’m not entirely sure how you can stand to be in the same room with me,” he says flatly, taking a very long, very deep drink from his glass.

“You don’t keep the spirits you bind,” Love says. “And you don’t use blood magic. It works differently.” He waves a hand dismissively. “Besides, the fact that it was bound is not the point of the story, just the beginning.”

Dorian looks confused for a moment before realization dawns on his face.

“Oh,” he murmurs softly.

“At first, I hurt in a way that… I don’t think I can describe it to you. It was… I’ve discovered nightmares since I became mortal but even when I dream of it the intensity isn’t the same. There was a Despair demon that was drawn to it, I suppose. I honestly don’t know what I was thinking. Perhaps, I thought if I threw myself into something else, _became_ something else if only for a moment it would make it better.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Dorian tells him gently in the pause after the words.

“When spirits are close, very very close, they… well there’s no word for it in any mortal language and I’m honestly not sure what would happen if I spoke the Fade tongue here so… suffice it to say we would… merge. For lack of a better term. Join together for a time. Together we would form something new, a mix of both our selves.”

“It sounds a bit like sex,” Dorian says. Love gives him an exasperated look.

“If sex was an experience in which you joined so completely with another being that you formed a completely new whole together and essentially became one person, then yes could say it’s like sex.”

Dorian laughs a bit.

“Sorry, sorry. Forgive my paltry mortal comparisons. So you would… become a whole new person? Is that permanent?”

“It can be, if both spirits want it to be. Otherwise it’s temporary and the two drift apart and separate again after a time. But… you have to be very careful. When you do it… there’s no division at all between you and the other spirit. Nothing separating you and no way of knowing what you'll become together. You each take a piece of the other with you when you separate. I don’t blame it per se, I can’t. There’s no way of knowing if it would have happened to me anyway but… when Despair and I made Grief together, it changed something in me. The entire experience was miserous. It didn’t end my pain so much as change and magnify it and I couldn’t… Dorian I couldn’t _think_ I hurt so much. I couldn’t _be_ anymore.”

“You fell. Became a demon.”

The way Dorian says it, so matter of fact as though it’s nothing, is all that lets Love admit it out loud.

“Yes,” he says. “It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t supposed to _leave_ me, Dorian! It…-“ he pauses taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like that. So I thought… if I could find Valor, everything would be alright. We’d be okay again. I wanted it back so _much_. At first getting to the mortal world was just a means to an end. This was where Valor was so I needed to be here too. But I _wanted_. I wanted until the wanting was all I was. Before long I couldn’t even remember what it was like to love someone anymore. I forgot everything I’d been, I even forgot Valor. I hurt until the only thing that made it any better was watching other people hurt. Making them hurt with me.”

“It sounds awful,” Dorian tells him. He doesn’t sound frightened, which is what Love realizes now he’d been most concerned about. Mages were taught to fear demons. He’d been frightened that Dorian would shrink away from him. That Desire would be all he saw whenever he looked at Love. Of course, he should have known better. He gives Dorian a small shaky smile.

“It was,” he says. “To be honest it’s difficult to remember. Now that I’m Love again, Desire feels like something that happened to someone else. A nightmare I watched some other person dream.”

“How did that happen?” Dorian asks. “If you fell, what made you come back?”

“It was a boy,” Love says with a smile. “A young mage boy. I found my way into his dream and when I offered his sleeping mind whatever he could want, the only answer I received was love. He wanted to be loved.”

Dorian makes a soft sound, shifting closer and putting an arm around him. Love leans into the embrace, drinking the last of his wine.

“I was just about to do it, promise to love him forever when I remembered. I thought of Valor and how disgusted it would be and what a monster I’d become.”

“Shh,” Dorian soothes him, stroking up and down his arm. "I met a Desire demon once. He was quite charming until he tried to posses me." Love can’t help but give a soft laugh.

“That's generally how that sort of thing goes," he teases, before growing serious again. "I was worried you’d be afraid of me if you knew. That’s why I ran.”

“Afraid of you? Don’t be ridiculous. About as frightening as a butterfly, you are,” Dorian says kissing his hair gently. Love snuggles into him with another soft laugh.

"Shut up and pour me more wine," he orders playfully.

"So demanding," Dorian sighs as he tips the bottle and fills Love's glass again. They stay like that for a long time.


	4. Chapter 3

Love has decided he likes wine. It's bitter to the taste in a way he hadn't expected but it warms him and makes his head feel light. Dorian has been very good at making him pace himself so he's enjoyably loose without having lost control of himself.

"No," Dorian says around a laugh. "You can't be serious!" Love laughs, shaking his head in embarrassment.

"I _am_ ," he laughs. "I've never seen Cullen so flustered. He was so red I was worried he'd pass out!"

"How the _hell_ did he come to that conclusion?" Dorian asks through his own laughter. Love leans in giving Dorian a serious look.

"I'll tell you if you promise not to tell anyone else," he says. Dorian raises his right hand.

"On my life," he swears with a chuckle.

"I've no godly idea how to read a map," Love tells him solemnly. Dorian stares at him for a moment before he bursts out laughing.

" _What_?" he asks giving Love and incredulous look.

"It's true! I'd never seen one before I woke up in Haven. It's not something we have in the Fade. Why would you need a map if you can just wish yourself anywhere?" Love explains laughing a little himself.

"Alright fair point," Dorian concedes. He leans back in his chair and refills his own glass. Dorian's tolerance for wine is nearly frightening. If Love had drunk at the same speed he is sure he would have passed out by now. "But how did that lead to Cullen thinking you were in _love_ with him?"

"Well you've been in the war room. It's just a huge map on a table with all these markers on it. And nothing's written on it, it's just an aerial view of Thedas with some woods and mountains sketched on it. I'd no idea where anything was. But I couldn't just _tell_ them that. 'Hi, yes, hello you're all trusting with the fate of the mortal world but as it turns out I need you to teach me to read this map first'."

Dorian collapses into chuckles again.

"Alright it doesn't exactly inspire confidence, I'll give you that," he agrees. Love smirks, taking another sip of his wine.

"So there I was the three of them expecting me to somehow close a giant hole in the sky and trying to figure out where Redcliffe was on the damn map without admitted I couldn't make heads or tails of it and then Cullen started talking. He has this _wonderful_ habit of pointing wherever to wherever he's talking about. So I realized if I watched him I could get an idea of where on the map wherever the place in question was. So..."

"So you started staring at him?" Dorian ventures. Love nods with another laugh.

"He was so _sweet_ about it though. He must have apologized five times before I explained it was all a misunderstanding. Afterwards he offered to teach me, which led to a lot of long nights in the war room which led to a lot of gossip. Before we knew it the whole keep thought we were together. I imagine some of them still do."

Dorian laughs shaking his head.

"It's hard to remember sometimes, how foreign all this must be to you. Do you miss it terribly?" he asks. Love considers looking out the window into the night.

"Sometimes," he says quietly. "But I'm getting to like it here too. It's not so terribly different once you get used to all the oddness."

"What's so odd?" Dorian asks with a curious expression. This is one of the things Love enjoys most about his conversations with Dorian. The man never shies away from reminders that he's not mortal like the others are wont to do. Dorian _enjoys_ talking about these sorts of things with him.

"Well for one, the water falling from the sky. Water never falls from the sky in the fade," Love says. Dorian gives him a skeptical look.

" _Rain_?" he asks. "There are entire floating _land masses_ in the fade and you think rain is odd?"

"They're only floating if you're beneath them," Love argues. Dorian blinks. Takes a breath like he's going to argue, blinks again, and takes a _large_ gulp of his wine.

"The rain," he says slowly as if he can't believe he's about to make this argument. "Is only falling if you're beneath it."

"Yes, but _everything_ is beneath it," Love counters. "Everything is on the same level here." Dorian blinks again.

"Sometimes talking to you gives me a headache, my friend," Dorian says with a fond shake of his head.

"Are we?" Love asks watching him intently. "Friends, I mean." Dorian tilts his head to the side, expression quirking.

"I thought so. Don't you?"

"Well... yes. I suppose we are," Love says with a small smile.

"Is that another thing that's different for spirits?" Dorian asks and Love nods.

"It's not that we don't have friends, we do. It's just that... friendships tend to be a good deal less casual? I don't want to make it seem like I'm looking down on mortal relationships, but everything's a bit more serious for spirits. We don't die so any relationship we have is forever, and any relationship that goes wrong could cause one or both of us to fall. We don't become close lightly."

Dorian looks thoughtful for a moment before nodding.

"That makes sense," he says. "I'm honored then." Love smiles at him, looking at him differently all of a sudden. He's so fragile, everything about him so temporary. He wouldn't look like this anymore in five years. In ten. His hair would grey and his skin would wrinkle.

"Dorian?" he asks, voice quiet.

"Yes, Love?"

"Sometimes, I'm very frightened."

Dorian looks at him with a soft smile. He reaches across the table and took Love's hand in his own.

"Yes, well that's why you have me," he says squeezing the man's hand gently. Love gives him a weak smile, returning the grip.


End file.
